


A Helping Hand

by medusine



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Angst, Awkward Flirting, Canon Disabled Character, Canon Era, Hand Jobs, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Pining, Unrequited Crush, mentions of silver/flint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 10:10:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15289239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/medusine/pseuds/medusine
Summary: Muldoon knows that Silver's not doing well and has an idea of how he could help him feel better.





	A Helping Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Rare Pair week 2018.

Silver wasn't all right.

Muldoon, though he didn't want to own up to it, had been watching Silver quite a lot in the past few months. He'd seen the changes. It wasn't just about the leg, the beard, the hair, the clothes – no, it was the look in Silver's eyes that had most changed. The spark of mischief had gone out of them, and every smile now was either false, or sad and weary. Oftentimes both.

Ever since Silver had joined the crew, Muldoon had noticed him. And why the fuck not? He was probably the handsomest bloke they'd seen in a long while, with his toned body and pretty face and big hands. There'd been many a conversation about whether it would be a good idea to try and fuck the cook. The fact he'd turned out to be some sort of traitor hadn't bothered most people. Certainly hadn't bothered Muldoon, though he was still convinced that roast pig had given him the shits.

A few of the lads had tried to get into Silver's trousers, but nobody had succeeded. Silver laughed and flirted and grinned, but didn't let anyone close. Maybe wasn't interested in that sort of thing. Or maybe the only person Silver was interested in was Flint. Not that Flint cared. Muldoon had watched Silver watch Flint for months now, and Flint had snubbed him day after day since Charlestown. Miserable fuck.

They were all sitting in a tavern, sipping rum, most of the crew arguing about which of the girls they'd fuck that night. All, of course, except Flint. He spent most of his time locked in his cabin with books. He'd never been interested in taverns or brothels anyhow.

Silver was lost in thought, brooding over his rum. He'd perk up whenever someone talked to him, play the part of the jovial quartermaster. Muldoon wondered if he was the only one to notice that it was all an act, that his laugh rang hollow, that his smile didn't reach his eyes.

As the night drew on, most of the crew found a girl to fuck. Several of the whores had tried their luck with Silver, and he'd been charming at first, then less and less so. By the end of the evening, he looked as though he might snap and snarl, and the girls stopped approaching him.

“I'll be off,” Silver said at last, hauling himself up with a slight grimace. “Have fun, yeah?”

“Nah, I'm all right. I'll get back to the ship with you.”

Silver only grunted and made for the exit. There was a bit of a walk to the beach where they'd left their longboats. Silver was limping pretty badly on his boot, but Muldoon knew better than to ask if he needed help. Silver hated being helped.

“Didn't any of the girls strike your fancy?” Silver asked after a while, his breath hitching with every step.

“Not really,” Muldoon answered. Silver could have noticed by now that Muldoon favoured men over women. Maybe he had, and was just being a prick. And if Silver was being a prick, Muldoon could be one back. “What about you? Been a while since you've been with someone, hasn't it?”

Silver glared at Muldoon. “I suppose so.”

They were walking through the trees now, a dense palm thicket. They could barely see anything in front of them, but the sound of the sea guided them. It was quiet, isolated. Silver had to stop for a moment, saying he was dizzy from the rum. He wasn't. Muldoon was sure his leg was hurting.

In the light of their torches, Silver's eyes shone bright. Sweat beaded down his throat. His mouth framed by his moustache looked fucking tempting. Emboldened the rum, Muldoon decided it was time to seize his chance and get it out once and for all.

“D'you, like… maybe want a quick tug? To relieve the tension.”

It wasn't exactly delicate, but not everyone had the luxury of Flint's education. Maybe he'd been crude, yes, but Muldoon hadn't expected the look of horror on Silver's face.

“What? No! For fuck's sake I lost a leg, not my hands!”

“What the fuck does that have to do with anything? Just thought you might like it. Bit of human warmth. Jesus!”

The anger on Silver's face turned to puzzlement, then to a sort of downcast exhaustion.

“Sorry, I just… Sorry. It's been a long couple of months.” His voice was soft and low. It always sent shivers down Muldoon’s spine, even now, in the middle of this fucking humiliation.

“Yeah well. Maybe you're not into that kind of stuff but I didn't offer out of pity, all right?”

“You didn't?”

Silver looked genuinely surprised at this. Could he be that stupid? Could he be that blind? Muldoon rolled his eyes.

“I'm not some saint, I don't tug off blokes cause I feel sorry for them.”

Silver chuckled a little, nervously, but that easy charm was suddenly back in his voice. “Then why do you do it?”

Muldoon grinned at him. “Cause it's a turn on to make a bloke come? Why else?”

That seemed to work. Silver took a shuddering breath through his nose, and his tongue slid over his lower lip. Muldoon came closer, feeling the weight of Silver's gaze on him. He wasn't sure Silver liked what he saw, but he didn't back away either. His eyes looked appraising, as though he was seeing Muldoon for the first time, or at least looking at him properly for the first time.

“Are you saying you'd like to fuck?” Silver asked, still incredulous.

“Yeah,” Muldoon answered. He could nearly hear the drumming of his own heart.

Silver chuckled. “You have a tavern full of whores, but you'd rather get off with me in the woods?”

“Pretty much sums it up,” Muldoon said simply.

The little laugh Silver gave was warm and sweet. He suddenly looked younger, more like the man Muldoon had noticed months ago, cheeky and charming and bloody fuckable.

“Ah… well then,” Silver said at last, smiling. “If you're still up for it...”

It wasn't exactly the enthusiastic answer Muldoon had been hoping for, but he wasn't picky. He moved close to Silver, pressing himself up against him, backing Silver against the tree he was leaning on. Silver let out a trembling sigh, and his arms came to wrap around Muldoon's middle. Muldoon wanted to kiss him, to devour that little mouth of his, but he wasn't sure how to go about it. He nuzzled against Silver's cheek, and Silver squeezed him tighter. He took it as an encouragement.

Silver's lips was dry and cracked when Muldoon first pressed his mouth to them. He kissed Silver lightly, barely daring to breathe, waiting for Silver to push him off. That moment never came. Silver's lips parted, letting a small moan escape, and his mouth was better than Muldoon had ever imagined, hot and hungry, and his tongue sent a jolt into Muldoon's cock when Silver slid it into his mouth. Never had Muldoon imagined there'd be so much need, so much desperation in John Silver's kisses.

It probably wasn't the prettiest sight, them kissing. Sloppy, urgent, a bit clumsy with rum. Silver was hard inside his trousers and ground up against Muldoon, a slow rub that set Muldoon's skin on fire. Silver's hands ran over the back of Muldoon's neck, hot and soft, stroking his scalp and holding him close. Fuck, this was good. Muldoon was hard and slick and he thought that he might get off just from rocking against Silver.

And then suddenly Silver's hands were at Muldoon’s breeches, frantically working them open. Muldoon let out a half-cry when Silver's hand wrapped around his cock and pulled it out.

“What're you doing?”

“I hear it's a turn-on to make another bloke come,” Silver murmured, his voice velvet, breath hot on Muldoon's mouth.

“Fuck,” was all Muldoon could say at hearing his own words on Silver's tongue. He fumbled with Silver's trousers to get them open, impatient to have Silver's cock in his hand too. It was fucking big, bless him, and only grew bigger as Muldoon stroked it. Silver squirmed beneath him, moaning softly into his mouth, bucking up into his hand.

They rutted against each other, moaning, kissing, sucking. Silver squeezed him cleverly, and he squeezed back, rubbing his thumb where Silver's foreskin met the head of his cock. That's when Silver started to lose it, started to gasp and whimper and arch into Muldoon as he quickened the pace. It wasn't long before Silver went rigid as he came in hot spurts into Muldoon's hand.

Silver went slack against the tree, practically wheezing. “Huh. Christ.” A grin spread over his face, and somehow now he looked young and carefree again. Then Silver's fingers tightened again around Muldoon's cock. “Your turn, now.” Silver's other hand squeezed at the back of Muldoon's neck and he came up to kiss him, tongue hot and lewd. Christ, the things Silver could do with his mouth. And his cock, god, Muldoon wondered how _that_ would feel, buried deep inside of him…

“You going to come for me?” Silver asked into Muldoon's mouth. “God you're so hard, you're just about to burst, aren't you?”

Muldoon let out a long groan as the tension in his balls became unbearable, as he came hard, seed bursting out of him at Silver's words. Silver was quiet, his kisses gentler as he squeezed the last of Muldoon's spend out of him. Muldoon buried his face in Silver's shoulder for a while, smelling sweat and salt and smoke from the brothel.

“That…” Silver said at last. “That was exactly what I needed.”

Muldoon chuckled against him and looked up at him. “I know. Why d'you think I offered?”

Silver laughed, and Muldoon laughed with him. They stayed huddled together against the tree for a while, catching their breath. Perhaps, Muldoon thought, if he could make Silver laugh, if he could make him come, if he could bring out the old Silver, if only for a while… well, perhaps that would be the start of something. Maybe in time, things would be less about Flint, about the leg, about the war, and more about the two of them.

Maybe they'd both be all right.


End file.
